


Have a better day

by RotChan



Category: Original Work
Genre: 1980s, Abuse, Character Death, Child Abuse, Forests, Gen, Immortality, Murder, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 16:31:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21449278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RotChan/pseuds/RotChan
Summary: Have a better day
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Have a better day

Mind numbing cartoons echoed the pale blue living room, the old tv set buzzing while a boy paid no mind. On the walls, he scribbled shaky lines with crayons of different colors, sitting back npw and then to see his progress. Oh his young mind, his mother walked in and gasped, and he turned away from his masterpiece to smile at her.

"It's us, mama."

She glanced at the drawing, and smiled sadly. The crude drawing, rather well for a child his age, was of a mother, her oldest son, then her youngest. They held hands, smiling, a bright happy sun hung over their heads with a few jolly clouds. There was no father present, but neither of them felt the need to explain why.

It was a mistake, as the man screamed at his mother, sluggish words drowning the small woman's excuses for the graffitti. Satyrus sat behind the wall, guilty and sobbing, until..

**Smack**

A door in the hall cracked open quietly, and his older brother peeked out, gesturing him to come, and he did. It was their biggest rule. _Don't fight._ Together, the boys hid in the closet, listening for the man to gag and cough, walking to a closet close by and grabbing out his rifle. They listened to him stomp down the hall and out the front door. He was off hunting.

Mother crept into their room and knocked on the closet door, and the two revealed a tear soaked face, one cheek red, and their arms stretched for her in a mess of sobs.

"We'll be ok," she coos,"it will be ok."

Many, many years pass, and today is Satyrus's 18th birthday.He makes a wish. He hunts today, however, this time he doesn't mind. He has found a special beast worth hunting. Through the trees, he follows, watching it's steps like a dear, slow and careful, unaware of the hunter behind it. He waits until they're deeper into the forest, to the nearest river, and he holds up his rifle, and points to the beast's head. Bird songs turn sour, leaves go silent, the roaring river seems to vanish and Satyrus takes a shaky breath.Said beast turns, familiar green eyes widen before life leaves them with a bang, shaking Satyrus to the core. He slowly lets the rifle drop to his side, then to the ground.

The beast's body was limp, red painting the forest floor until his body started to drag. They wouldn't serve this beast, oh no, this one was _rotten. _

A snap of a nearby twig stops Satyrus in his work, and he freezes, only until he sees his older brother, shovel in hand. Seriousness filled those familiar green eyes. _They all had planned this, yet it felt so unplanned. _They dug. And dug. And dug, and finally, the beast was buried. But neither cheered. They returned home to their mother.

The woman aged far more than she was supposed to, but now she didn't need to. None of them needed to. Silverware barely moved to cut into a pig's meat, as no one had an appetite after what they did. They didn't acknowledge the fourth empty chair at the table, not after what they did. There was no relief, no happiness, no sadness, just a family of blank faces.

The picture on the wall long gone from age, the beast will never return.

**Author's Note:**

> Thisisreallybadimsosorry
> 
> I cant write at all im so nervous about posting thiiiissss


End file.
